𓍯9𓂃

The KISS cafeteria was bustling, but Stella's voice still managed to cut through the noise as she sat down beside Minho.

"She's so rude," Stella said, dropping her tray onto the table with a huff. "Can you believe Dove yesterday? She completely snapped at me in the library!"

Minho raised an eyebrow, setting his phone down. "What did she say?"

Stella leaned in, clearly enjoying the moment. "All I did was ask her to share the table, and she goes, 'Maybe you should stop acting like you own the place.' Like, excuse me? Who even says that?"

Minho's easygoing demeanour shifted, his jaw tightening as he frowned. "She actually said that to you?"

"Yeah! In front of everyone," Stella added, her voice rising. "It was so uncalled for."

Minho stood abruptly, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. "Unreal," he muttered, grabbing his bag.

Stella blinked up at him. "Wait, where are you going?"

"To talk to her," Minho said curtly, already walking away.

Minho found Dove in the library, sitting in the corner with her notebook open, her pen moving in deliberate, colourful strokes. She didn't notice him until he cleared his throat.

Her head shot up, eyes widening slightly, but it was soon replaced by an irritated look.

"What do you want?"

"What's your problem?" he said, his tone sharper than she'd ever heard before.

Dove blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

"In the library yesterday," he said, crossing his arms. "What gives you the right to talk to Stella like that? She didn't deserve it."

Dove's brow furrowed, her voice calm but firm. "She came at me first. I wasn't just going to sit there and let her walk all over me."

"She wasn't walking all over you," Minho shot back. "She asked you to share the table. That's not unreasonable."

"She didn't ask. She just came to attack me. Stella made a snide comment and acted like I was in her way just for existing," Dove said, standing up. "But of course, you wouldn't see that, would you? Because it's Stella."

His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I know she's your girlfriend, but you always take her side, no matter what she says or does," Dove replied, her voice rising."Maybe try seeing things from someone else's perspective for once."

"Oh, please," he snapped, his voice rising slightly despite the library setting. "Stella wasn't trying to start anything. You're the one who blew it out of proportion."

Dove's eyes narrowed. "She was being rude, and you know it. Why are you even defending her?"

"Because she didn't deserve to be treated like that!" Minho shot back. He leaned closer, his tone turning sharp and cutting. "Or is this about something else? Are you just jealous of her? Still not over me?"

Dove froze, her heart dropping at his words. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You heard me," Minho said, his gaze unwavering. "It's not like you've been subtle. You've been weird around me ever since... well, you came here."

Her hands clenched the edge of her notebook, her face heating with a mix of anger and hurt. "That's low, even for you, Minho."

"Is it?" he pressed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe if you focused less on picking fights and more on moving on, things would be easier for everyone."

Dove stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor as she glared at him. "You're unbelievable. You don't even see the real problem, do you? You're too busy living in your own little world to notice how much damage you cause."

She grabbed her notebook and walked away, leaving Minho standing there, his expression unreadable as something twisted uncomfortably in his chest.

It looked like Minho was looking for trouble as he suddenly catched up to Dove and yanked her by her hand to the corner of the library building.

"Minho, let go," she snapped, trying to pull away, but his grip tightened.

"Not until you stop running away like you always do," Minho growled, his voice low and impatient. He yanked her forcefully toward the side of the library building, dragging her into the shadowed corner where no one could see them.

"Let go of me!" Dove tried again, her heart racing as she struggled against him, but Minho was stronger.

"Stop being so dramatic," he snapped, spinning her to face him. His eyes flashed with something dark-frustration, anger, maybe even something deeper. "You think you can just snap at everyone and get away with it? Do you think you can talk to me like that and have no consequences?"

Dove's breath hitched. "You don't have the right to treat me like this."

"Oh, I don't?" Minho sneered, stepping in closer, his voice dropping to a taunting whisper. "You think you're better than everyone else just because you're different, don't you? You can't even handle someone saying the smallest thing to you without acting like the whole world is out to get you."

"That's not -" Dove began, but he cut her off, his words sharp and cutting.

"No, it's exactly that," Minho continued, his eyes narrowing with malice. "You're just jealous, aren't you? Jealous of everyone else who has their life together. You're pathetic."

Dove flinched, his words stabbing at her like a knife. "You don't know anything about me."

"I don't need to know anything," Minho scoffed, his voice growing louder with each word. "It's obvious. You're not over me. You've been dragging this thing out, making everything harder than it needs to be because you can't let go. You never let go."

Dove's heart dropped at the cruel words, the bitterness in his tone sinking in. "I'm not... I'm not jealous of you," she said, her voice trembling with disbelief. "And I'm not still hung up on you. You don't get it."

"I get it perfectly," Minho snapped, stepping back and throwing his hands up in the air. "You think you're special, that you're different, but all you do is push people away. I'm done with it."

Dove froze mid-step, her heart pounding in her chest. Her fingers curled tightly around the strap of her bag, her knuckles white. She'd kept it together so many times, swallowed the words, and walked away. But this time? Something inside her snapped.

"About me?" she shouted, whirling around to face him. Her voice cracked with the force of her words, years of pent-up frustration spilling out like a dam breaking. "You think I make this about me? Do you even hear yourself, Minho?"

Her voice rose, trembling as her vision blurred with tears. "You're always picking fights with me, always! You don't miss a single chance to tear me down, and then you act like you're some kind of victim!"

Minho's smirk faltered as the hallway quieted, students stopping in their tracks to watch the meltdown unfold. But Dove didn't care anymore. The walls she'd carefully built to protect herself had crumbled, and everything she'd kept inside was pouring out.

"Do you know what it's like to feel like you have to tiptoe around someone every single day? To dread every interaction because you know-you know-they're just waiting to drag you through the mud again?

I try so hard to stay out of your way, Minho, but it's never enough for you! You keep coming at me like I'm some kind of villain in your story. Newsflash, Minho: I'm not your villain. You are!" Her voice broke completely as hot tears streamed down her face.

Her words echoed in the silent hallway, her sobs mingling with her ragged breaths. She wiped at her face with shaking hands, her emotions so raw and unfiltered that even she barely recognized herself.

Minho stood frozen, his eyes wide, his usual cocky expression replaced with shock-and maybe something else. Guilt? Regret? It didn't matter.

"Oh, and about me not being over you? It's wrong! I was over you the second I realized what a self-absorbed jerk you are."

Minho blinked, momentarily thrown off by the venom in her tone, but she didn't let him get a word in.

"If anything, it's you who's not over me," she said, jabbing a trembling finger in his direction.

"Because you can't seem to go a single day without taking a shot at me. Do you think I haven't noticed? You're obsessed with jabbing at me, picking fights, making me look bad.

And for what? Because you think it makes you feel better? Because you enjoy dragging me down just to prop yourself up? If anyone is dragging this issue out harder than it needs to be, it's you!"

Her voice broke on the last words, but she pressed on, her raw emotions fueling her every word. "If you were really over me, you wouldn't care this much. You wouldn't go out of your way to make me miserable every chance you get. So don't stand there and accuse me of not moving on when you're the one who can't let go."

Minho's jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides, but he didn't say anything. For once, he didn't have a comeback.

Dove took a shaky breath, wiping at her tear-streaked face. "You can keep playing your little games, but I'm not going to be a part of them anymore. Find someone else to project all your issues onto. I'm done."

She turned and stormed off, her sobs echoing faintly in the still-silent hallway.

Minho stood there, staring after her, the weight of her words settling on him like a heavy stone. The smirk he usually wore was gone, replaced by an expression that no one could quite read.

And for the first time, he wondered if maybe-just maybe-Dove was right.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I wrote a little more than I intended to ( '・∀・｀)

I feel like there's too many arguments, but half of me likes it. You know, it'll kind of help Minho realise how much of a jerk he is and how immature he's behaving. Plus, I like the drama (ФωФ)

Well, enough of that, I'll see y'all in the next chapter!